AN APOLOGETIC POSTSCRIPT TO ODE UPON ODE.
Principibus placuisse viris non ultima laus est.
HORACE.
The bard whose verse can charm the best of kings,
Performeth most extraordinary things!
THE ARGUMENT.
Peter nobly acknowledgeth Error, suspecteth an interfering Devil, and supplicateth his Reader.—He boasteth, wittily parodieth, and most learnedly quoteth a Latin Poet—He showeth much Affection for Kings, illustrating it by a beautiful Simile—Peter again waxeth witty—Resolution declared for Rhime in consequence of Encouragement from our two Universities—Peter wickedly accused of King-roasting; refuteth the malevolent Charge by a most apt Illustration—Peter criticiseth the Blunders of the Stars—Peter replieth to the Charges brought against him by the World—He displayeth great Bible Knowledge, and maketh a shrewd Observation on King David, Uriah, and the Sheep, such as no Commentator ever made before—Peter challengeth Courtiers to equal his Intrepidity, and proveth his Superiority of Courage by giving a delectable Tale of Dumplings—Peter answereth the Unbelief of a vociferous World—Declareth totis viribus love for Kings—Peter peepeth into Futurity, and telleth the Fortune of the Prince of Wales
—He descanteth on the high Province of ancient Poets, and displayeth classical Erudition—Peter holdeth Conference with a Quaker—Peter, as usual, turneth rank Egotist—He telleth strange News relating to Majesty and Pepper Arden—Peter apologiseth for Impudence by a Tale of a French King—Peter, imitating Ovid, who was transported for his impudent Ballads, talketh to his Ode—Suggesteth a royal Answer to Ode and Odefactors—Happily selecteth a story of King Canute, illustrating the Danger of stopping the Mouths of Poets with Halters, &c. instead of Meat—Peter concludeth with a wise Observation.
Reader, I solemnly protest
I thought that I had work'd up all my rhime
What stupid demon hath my brain possess'd?
I prithee pardon me this time:
Afford thy patience through more ode;
'Tis not a vast extent of road:
Together let us gallop then along:
Most nimbly shall old Pegasus, my hack, stir,
To drop the image—prithee hear more song
Some ‘more last words of Mr. Baxter.’
A wondrous fav'rite with the tuneful throng,
Sublimely great are Peter's pow'rs of song:
His nerve of satire, too, so very tough,
Strong without weakness, without softness rough.
What Horace said of streams in easy lay
The marv'ling world of Peter's tongue may say;
His tongue, so copious in a flux of metre,
‘Labitur et labetur!’
